Her breath hitched . . . but she ducked her head and hooked her thumbs into the sides of the scrap of lace. He stepped back to watch her push that scrap down and off, because the visual sensation was a feast—though nothing could ever triumph touch for him, tactile pleasure his one true addiction.
Heat blazing over every inch of her skin, she pushed the crumpled lace aside with a slender foot, her lashes hiding her gaze. He reached out, ran the back of one finger over a pebbled nipple. She jerked. Unable to resist, he dipped his head, took part of her breast into his mouth, sucked.
Her knees buckled. “Jason, oh please . . .”
Holding her up as he released her sensitive flesh, he soothed her with a languid kiss that poured fuel on the black storm of his own passion. “Like that,” he murmured against kiss-swollen lips as he continued to seduce her with his mouth, “just like that.” Cock painfully hard, he slid one hand between her thighs and stroked lightly down the centerline of her sex with a single finger.
Over and over . . . and over again.
Her breath turned into jagged gasps, the tip of his finger slick with her need, her hands gripping at his arms. Dazed eyes locked with his own as he broke the kiss, and he knew the pleasure was building in her, a slow crescendo.
“Fly.” It was rough encouragement as he demanded another kiss, craving the contact. “I have you.” He continued with his slow, relentless caress, touching the glistening nub at the apex of her thighs with each stroke now that she’d spread her thighs farther in an effort to deepen the intimate contact.
Her fingernails dug into his arms, her neck arched.
Bending her over his arm, he took part of her neglected breast into his mouth, ran his teeth over the taut flesh as he released it . . . at the same time that he captured the sensitive nub between her thighs in his fingertips and pressed hard.
“Jason!”
Raising his head, he removed his hand before the pleasure racking her body became painful. “I have you,” he repeated, nuzzling his face against the side of hers. “I have you.”
Only when she stopped trembling did he shift his hold to her hips and raise her until she could wrap her legs around his waist. Her eyes were lazy, sated, her kiss languid. Arms twining around his neck, she opened for him with a sensual generosity that made him want to devour, her fingers weaving through his hair. He reached between them to undo his jeans, grip his cock, and position himself at her entrance.
A soft gasp into his mouth as the head of his cock rubbed against her passion-swollen flesh and then he was pushing into the silken welcome of her sheath.
“Oh!” Mahiya gripped him tighter with every part of her body, her internal muscles continuing to ripple with trailing waves of her pleasure.
Shuddering, he dropped his forehead onto her own as he fought the urge to shove. Her body was telling him it hadn’t been used in such a way for a long time, her muscles struggling to stretch around him.
“It’s all right, Jason.” Fingers on his cheek, kisses gentle and tender and unexpected. “I want you so much.”
He drew in a ragged breath, pushed a fraction deeper. A bit more. Scalding heat, feminine muscles pulsing on his rigid flesh. The pleasure was almost pain, the bite exquisite. Turning his mouth to brush against her own, he continued to work his cock into her, slow and relentless.
“Jason.”
Flexing his hips at the whimper of sound, he forced himself to halt. “Does it hurt?” he asked bluntly.
A dazed look. “It burns and yet it feels good. I want you in me.”
That was all he needed to hear.
Sliding his hands under her thighs, he lifted her legs off his hips and pushed her knees up and wide, his strength more than enough to keep her pinned as he thrust into her to the feel of her nails digging into his back as her body spasmed around him, bathing his cock in molten desire.
Then he began to move.
23
Honor sat in sunlight rich as honey and as languorous, a glass of orange juice in hand and Dmitri’s white shirt loose and comfortable around her, watching her husband pace back and forth across the sprawling gardens that surrounded their private villa. He held a phone to his ear, gave clipped orders in a tone that said he expected to be obeyed.
He’d asked her if she wanted to explore the countryside, but all she wanted was to be with Dmitri. They made love in the sunshine and in the dark, played bedroom games that caused her to blush, and fed each other treats they had delivered from a discreet grocer in the nearby village. It was a lazy, hazy existence, and she was glad for it after the horror of what had gone before.